


a kind of hideous and calculating appraisal

by leetheshark



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Misunderstandings, Re-animation, and kissing WITH permission, herbert kills people (but not dan), kissing without permission, this is extremely cliche by the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-13 03:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18460229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetheshark/pseuds/leetheshark
Summary: Dan notices the way Herbert looks at him. There are misunderstandings.





	a kind of hideous and calculating appraisal

**Author's Note:**

> From [Part VI](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Herbert_West:_Reanimator/Part_VI) of Lovecraft: "...West had emerged with a soul calloused and seared, and a hardened eye which sometimes glanced with a kind of hideous and calculating appraisal at men of especially sensitive brain and especially vigorous physique. Toward the last I became acutely afraid of West, for he began to look at me that way."
> 
> This is also partly a retelling of [Part IV.](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Herbert_West:_Reanimator/Part_IV)

It wasn’t that Dan was afraid of Herbert, though he probably should have been.

Herbert had proven himself a dangerous man. He’d killed Dr. Hill. He’d presented Dan with bodies that Dan couldn’t be sure were dead when Herbert found them. He’d injected _himself_ with his reagent, the recklessness of which still frustrated Dan beyond belief—clearly there was nothing Herbert wouldn’t do for his experiments.

So when Dan caught Herbert staring at him, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

It was something Herbert did often. Stared at people. Men, specifically. He didn’t bother to hide his calculating gaze: a gaze that made it clear to Dan, who knew Herbert well enough, that Herbert was thinking of what he could do with those men’s bodies in the lab.

Overall, Dan liked his odds. He could easily take Herbert in a fight, for one. Of course, Herbert could always take Dan in his sleep, or from behind like he had Dr. Hill, but Dan felt, or at least hoped, that he and Herbert were friendly enough by now that Herbert _wouldn’t._

Still, Dan found it increasingly difficult to ignore Herbert peering at him through the thick lenses of his glasses.

It was a typical evening in the basement lab when Dan decided that he’d had enough.

Dan was filling a syringe with reagent when he felt Herbert’s eyes on him. Herbert had asked Dan to do the injection, so that Herbert could make observations. The dead man had been injected with Herbert’s newest embalming serum after his convenient death (as Herbert recounted to Dan, and Dan decided not to question), and two weeks later laid out on the lab table for re-animation.

Dan looked up from his work and met Herbert’s gaze. It was clear to Dan that Herbert had been staring, and clear to Herbert that Dan had noticed. “Herbert!” Dan snapped.

Herbert looked immensely guilty.

He dropped his gaze, tossed his gloves aside, and left the basement without a word. Dan watched after him and considered his options. Something had to be said. It was a good sign that Herbert hadn’t knocked him out with a shovel yet. Dan took off his gloves, laid them on the table, and climbed the stairs.

When he entered the living room, Herbert was sitting on the couch. He had a textbook open in his lap. Either he was pointedly ignoring Dan, or he hadn’t heard Dan come in.

Dan cleared his throat. Herbert glared at him. “Herbert. I’ve seen the way you look at me and I think we should talk about it.”

Herbert huffed. "You're very good looking, Dan. Surely you’re used to people appraising you. If my attraction to men bothers you, I understand. I thought you were more enlightened than that, but perhaps I was mistaken."

Suddenly, Dan’s brain didn’t seem to work. “What?"

Herbert gazed at Dan above the rims of his glasses. "What? My answer wasn't good enough for you? Jesus, Dan, what more do you want? I'm sorry, alright?"

"You're attracted to me?"

"Well, you're the one that brought it up,” Herbert said bitterly. “Don't pretend like you didn't know."

"I didn't!”

Herbert looked quizzically at Dan, like he was trying to piece together what had happened.

"That's not why I thought you were looking at me,” Dan said.

"Well, why did you think I was looking at you?"

"Because you wanted to kill me," Dan explained. He realized, as he said it aloud, how absurd it really was.

Herbert squinted, as if that would make Dan make sense to him. It was the same look he got when he tried to interpret the scrawl of his notes through the haze of sleep deprivation. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“To re-animate me.”

"Oh."

A long, silent moment passed. A look passed over Herbert’s face that Dan could only interpret as horror.

"So,” Herbert said, decidedly not looking at Dan. “you really didn't know.”

“No.”

“And now you do."

"Yeah."

Herbert nodded to himself, then closed his textbook and got up. He passed close by Dan on his way back to the basement. This time, Dan didn’t follow him.

  


* * *

  


Dan thought of little other than Herbert for the next few days. During his shifts at the hospital, whenever his brain had an unoccupied moment, thoughts of Herbert’s undue confession came unbidden to the front of Dan’s mind. He wished they didn’t. If he were a good friend to Herbert, Dan thought, he would let it drop completely. It was the better option, after all, if it meant Herbert wasn’t going to strangle him in his sleep or whack him with a shovel.

But something about Herbert’s apparent feelings scared him, and the fact that they scared him _also_ scared him, so that his heart raced when he thought of Herbert and he wondered what it all meant.

He thought of Herbert’s voice, telling him _You’re very good looking, Dan,_ and making what should have been a compliment sound objective and unimportant. And even so, thinking about it made some subterranean part of Dan feel good, like it mattered. It was a part of Dan that he didn’t understand. Why should it matter, anyway? It wasn’t as if Dan felt the same way.

He thought of Herbert saying _I thought you were more enlightened than that,_ and it hurt, but maybe Herbert was right. Maybe Herbert’s attraction to men did bother Dan—he got painfully anxious when he thought about it, after all.

Dan desperately wanted to talk to Herbert, but he didn’t know how, so he was immeasurably relieved when Herbert found him in the kitchen, washing the dishes from his solitary dinner, and said, “The work waits, Dan.”

Dan turned to see Herbert standing in the doorway. “I need your help,” Herbert continued. “I can’t do it alone, not a person, not if he attacks me.”

Dan agreed, because he almost always agreed, because as much as he loathed the gruesome work, he couldn’t deny its importance, and because he knew that if he wasn’t around, Herbert was far more likely to get hurt.

Dan followed Herbert into the basement and helped him prepare. The dead man was still preserved and in the same position Dan had last seen him in, but some of the glassware and liquid chemicals had been moved. Herbert was evidently keeping busy. Dan wondered if he had a new idea, or if he was just tinkering, as he often did when there was nothing big to work on.

Herbert held out his hand and Dan gave over his, knuckles against Herbert’s palm, so that Herbert could place the critical green vial into Dan’s hand. Something about the touch made Dan’s brain short-circuit, and he took his hand away, picking up a syringe and getting ready to inject.

As Dan filled the syringe, Herbert started his tape recorder. “April seventeenth,” he spoke. “Subject male, likely forties. Physical condition normal.” Herbert skipped over the cause of death, something that Dan didn’t want to think too hard about. “Time is 8:03 pm.” As Dan raised the dead man’s head to administer 10 ccs of reagent into his brain, Herbert noted that as well. “10 ccs of reagent being administered...” Dan lowered the man’s head to the table, and he and Herbert waited.

Dan noted the changes as Herbert spoke them. “Ten seconds,” Herbert said, as the man’s ashen face found its color again. “Color returning to cheeks. Pulse and breath returning. He’s—he’s _speaking!_ ”

The man’s lips were moving, as if forming words, and yet no sound came from his undead mouth. Dan gaped as he wondered if Herbert may have finally done it: returned conscious thought to the dead. Maybe Herbert’s embalming solution was the answer. He felt a rush of affection for Herbert, and would have hugged him if the dead man hadn’t suddenly burst into action and smacked Dan halfway across the room.

“Dan!” Herbert cried.

Dan sprung to his feet, ignoring the pain so that he could help Herbert, but Herbert stood back from the table, safe—the dead man was attacking nothing but the air in front of him. After a minute of his hideous struggle, he cried out, “Get away from me! Keep that damn needle away!” and collapsed, dead for good.

Dan shook, finding it suddenly difficult to stand. Herbert was there to catch him, and in a haze, Dan let Herbert guide him up the stairs and sit him down on the living room couch. “It’s okay, Dan,” he cooed as he wrapped a blanket around Dan’s shoulders, and when he took his seat beside Dan, Dan collapsed fully into him.

Dan hadn’t felt like this since Meg—had only felt like this once before then, after Dean Halsey. Herbert wrapped one arm around Dan’s shoulders and held Dan’s hand with the other. Dan was disconnected, but the blanket helped, and so did Herbert’s touch. Herbert held Dan until he fell asleep, and when Dan woke up, with a pillow under his head that wasn’t his, Herbert was gone.

  


* * *

  


It wasn't often that Dan was able to get Herbert to drink with him. But it had been a rough few days, and Dan made sure to pick up a beer that he knew Herbert liked. Besides, they both had things they wanted to forget.

They ordered a large cheese pizza—Dan wanted sausage or pepperoni, but Herbert refused to eat any toppings—and kicked back on the couch for the night.

It was easier to think about the situation with Herbert than it was to confront his existential dread after the other day’s experiment. After four beers, he made the poor decision to say something. “So, you like me.”

Herbert scoffed, already buzzed himself. “I never said anything about _liking_ you.”

“Oh, come on,” Dan replied.

Herbert looked into the distance, finished his third beer, and started to ramble. “It was my big secret, you know. My little schoolboy crush on handsome, straight Danny.” The nickname was infused with contempt. “And you just had to ruin everything. You thought I wanted to kill you? Jesus, Dan. I know you’re not as smart as I am, but I didn’t think you were that dense.”

Dan didn’t have it in him to be mad at Herbert, not now, but he felt the need to shoot back anyway. “What the hell, Herbert? You were looking at me like I was a piece of meat. What was I supposed to think?”

Herbert threw his hands up. “I don’t know. Anything else. Anything else! Maybe you could have realized the truth and left me alone?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” Dan said.

Herbert sighed. “I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

What more _did_ Dan want? He couldn’t get Herbert out of his head. He thought he wanted normalcy, but the thought of that felt empty, somehow. He gazed at Herbert—and that was funny, that this whole thing started with Herbert looking at Dan, and now Dan couldn’t seem to stop looking at Herbert. He couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering on Herbert’s eyes, behind those big glasses that made him look small, or on Herbert’s lips, which made Dan yearn for something that had until now been nameless and unexplained.

Dan knew, then, what he wanted.

He leaned into Herbert’s space, and when he got close enough that he should have felt Herbert’s breath, he didn’t. He pressed his lips against Herbert’s, feeling their softness and giving him a gentle kiss. Herbert didn’t move, but he exhaled when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer.

“Dan,” he said, against Dan’s lips. And then his voice got louder—“Dan!”—loud enough to startle Dan into scrambling back across the couch.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Herbert demanded.

“I want to kiss you,” Dan said. Wasn’t it obvious? “Don’t you want me to?”

“No!” Herbert barked. “And no, you don’t. You’re drunk. Don’t act like you return my feelings if you’re going to change your mind later. It’s cruel.”

“Herbert—“

“We should talk about something else.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Herbert said. “Then we don’t have to talk about anything. I’m going to bed.”

With that, Herbert left. Dan drank three more beers, wondered where it all went wrong, and fell asleep on the couch.

  


* * *

  


When Dan woke up, the heartache hit him before the nausea.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned, peeling himself off the couch. “Herbert.”

He looked around, finding Herbert nowhere, which meant that he was either in the lab or his room. Dan doubted Herbert would want to work so early after drinking, so that left only one option. Dan brushed his teeth, showered, and put on clean clothes before going to knock on Herbert’s door.

Herbert cracked the door and peered through the narrow opening. Dan’s heart sped up at the sight of him. Missing his glasses, Herbert squinted up at Dan’s face. “What do you want?”

Dan must have woken Herbert up. He winced, feeling even more guilty. “Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

Herbert eyed Dan warily. It didn’t have much of an effect, since Dan knew that Herbert couldn’t see him very well. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“No,” Dan said. “I am a little hungover, though.”

Herbert examined Dan for a little longer. “Fine,” he said, and then he stepped back and let Dan inside.

There was a desk chair, but Dan chose to sit on Herbert’s bed instead. Herbert took his glasses from the nightstand and put them on before sitting beside his companion. Dan rarely saw Herbert in his sleep wear, a white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Herbert looked… different. He watched Dan like he was a threat, and it hurt Dan, to think that Herbert was afraid of him.

Dan sighed. “Sorry I kissed you last night.”

Herbert glared. “You should be.”

“I meant it, though.”

Herbert scoffed. “Are you thinking clearly?”

“Yes! If you don’t like me anymore, I get it, but don’t tell me I’m wrong about my own feelings! Jesus, Herbert!” It was only when Herbert stiffened up, defensive, that Dan realized he had raised his voice.

Dan expected Herbert to snap back at him, but Herbert’s argumentative nature faltered and he cast his eyes to the floor.

“Herbert,” Dan said softly. He took Herbert’s hand where it rested on the bed. Herbert’s hand jumped when Dan touched him, but he allowed it, even clasping Dan’s hand after a moment of contemplation.

Herbert looked back at Dan, studying him. “Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dan answered.

“You can kiss me now,” Herbert said, quiet like he was embarrassed. “If you want to.” Dan had never seen Herbert timid before. It was sweet on him.

Dan squeezed Herbert’s hand and obeyed. Herbert groaned when Dan’s mouth met his, and when Dan came away, Herbert’s glasses were askew. Herbert didn’t seem to notice. He licked his lips and looked at Dan with awe.

Herbert was dangerous without a doubt, but he was also Dan’s. Dan accepted now that he was Herbert’s, too, that he had been for a while. Maybe since the beginning. Dan suspected he was too tied up with Herbert by now to ever extricate himself, but he didn’t think he would ever want to.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [tumblr](http://geislieb.tumblr.com) if you like reanimator bullshit 👌


End file.
